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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23607691">Pretty Me Up, Baby, I'm On a Roll</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackRoseMyou/pseuds/BlackRoseMyou'>BlackRoseMyou</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Lipstick &amp; Lip Gloss, M/M, Makeup, Makeup Kink, Steve rogers wears makeup</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:20:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,344</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23607691</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackRoseMyou/pseuds/BlackRoseMyou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve thought he'd left some things behind in the forties. Turns out, some things just have a way of sticking around.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve Rogers had gotten used to makeup. It had been a necessary part of his life back when he was doing shows for the USO; costume, hair, makeup, punch Hitler in the face - the usual. He'd stopped, of course, when he actually went to war. Makeup tended to run in the trenches.</p><p>
He hadn't really meant to get back into it. He'd gone to the large, warehouse-sized mega store for shampoo and ended up strolling through makeup aisles. His sense of direction was impeccable on missions yet he always seemed to get himself lost in stores. The future was confusing. Stark had offered numerous times to simply order the things Steve needed. but the preferred to go out and buy them himself.<br/>
He definitely didn't mean to stop and peruse the shelves. He certainly hadn't intended to leave with a bag full of makeup - and no shampoo. Such, he supposed regretfully, were the ways of stores. The stuff had called to him, after all.
</p><p>

Such as it was that Steve found himself standing in front of the mirror. There was some bizarre comfort in the visage reflected back at him. His face seemed complete, somehow - lashes lengthened, eyes rimmed in kohl, cheeks barely rouged. He turned this way and that, allowing himself vanity for a brief moment. He smiled his dazzling show boy grin and then frowned. He added the slightest touch of color to his lips with a product he had found called a "gloss". It certainly leant less color to his lips than the lipstick the forties had had to offer. He looked less like a painted whore and more like a natural beauty.
</p><p>
When the call came in, he certainly didn't think to clean his face. He scrambled off to get his suit, completely forgetting the cosmetics, both on his face and on the counter. </p><p>
--<br/>
</p><p>

It was already past midnight by the time they'd finished kicking the ass of this week's villain, debriefing to Fury, and finally making it back to Avengers' tower. Everybody was tired; Clint and Natasha were nursing minor wounds, Bruce was looking pale and drawn in his borrowed clothing - which he was having trouble keeping on as it pooled around him - Thor looked weary, and even Tony looked like he might collapse. Steve watched the others head off to their quarters to rest and plopped himself down on the couch. He pulled his cowl off and leaned his head back, eyes closed, as he gently prodded his hairline to find the nasty bump he'd gotten earlier. He hissed as he found it. He'd have to check for a concussion before he went to bed. </p><p>

He barely noticed Tony dropping to the couch beside him as he ran his hands over his face - finding bumps, bruises, and a trail of blood leading down from his split lip.</p><p>
He jumped as a hand joined his at his cheek. His eyes flew open and he jerked his head to the side. Tony didn't flinch. His hand remained beside Steve's, gently tracing his cheekbone. His expression was one of wonder. Steve found himself staring back - even with cuts on his cheek and a bruise blooming on his brow, Tony was stunning.</p><p>
Steve swallowed, throat dry, and averted his eyes. He gathered himself and attempted to string together a sentence. He stammered a bit but eventually managed to spit out a quiet "what?" </p><p>
Tony startled and leaned back a bit. He blinked, seeming confused for a moment, before allowing his face to settle into a leer. "Oh," he breathed, "I just think that Captain America looks fantastic with makeup." His lips settled into a filthy grin as he took in Steve's expression, which went from confusion to panic in an instant.</p><p>

Steve's eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and his thoughts ground to a firm halt. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, fish-like, before emitting a single expletive that was most definitely not a squeak. He felt his ears, face, and neck begin to burn and knew he was turning a red to rival the stripes on his costume. </p><p>
"Steve?" came a worried voice. "Steve? Steve? Shit, I think I broke Captain America. I broke a national icon. A national fucking treasure. Shit. Steve?!" </p><p>
Steve jerked as he felt a hand on his shoulder. "What," he squeaked, "uhm, no, wh - I, um...." He snapped his mouth shut and his blush burned impossibly brighter. He took a deep breath to steady himself before trying again. "It's just...it's silly, but I find it comforting. I just..." Steve closed his mouth and looked down at his hands, fighting with embarassment and a pressing urge to run.</p><p>
"Hey, no, don't do that." Tony's voice was kind and gentle; the teasing edge had faded away. Tony shifted and pressed his hands to Steve's cheeks, lifting his face to look at him. Steve's eyes stayed down and to the left, avoidant. "Hey," he whispered, "Steve. Look at me." An encouraging smile lit his face as Steve finally, hesitantly, met his eyes.</p>

<p>
His expression crooked into a grin and he muttered "beautiful," before pressing his lips to Steve's. He began to pull back after he realised Steve wasn't kissing him back. He steeled himself to smile, apologize, blame it on the adrenaline that had worn off hours ago. He only got an inch away before a hand on the back of his neck was pulling him back, crushing their lips together again. Tony let out a muffled noise of surprise and dropped a hand to rest over Steve's heart, kissing him for all that he was worth.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Gifts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The night hadn't really gone far beyond that. He and Tony had kissed for a while and Steve had gotten overwhelmed and scuttled off to his room. Things stayed the same for about a week - from the outside looking in, anyway. Tony had been spending an increasing amount of time in his shop and Steve hadn't been his usual self. He'd been avoidant and staying in his room more, worrying and overthinking.<br/>It had been exactly one week when Steve found a present waiting on the table for him as he made his way out for his morning run. It had no note besides his name taped to the outside of the white paper bag. Steve opened it and immediately snapped the bag shut again, face turning red in an instant. He flew back to his room, heart hammering in his ears.<br/>At first, he was terrified. Who had found out? Who knew? His panic settled after a few moments and he decided to go through his very unexpected present. In the bag was a collection of makeup - mascara, blush, a few different colors of eyeliner, and a bright red lipstick. Bold, he thought, but he might just try it.<br/>The next day, another present was waiting for him. An eyeshadow palette in a fancy box was inside the latest bag. This went on for another week, with Steve's collection growing by the minute. He found himself looking forward to his gifts instead of dreading them. At the end of the week, he had almost too much makeup to fit in the designated makeup drawer in his bathroom.<br/>The next morning, there was no gift. There was, however, a note. Your present today is in my lab. Subtle, concise, clearly Stark. Steve heaved a sigh of relief - of course it was Stark. Nobody else knew. He was safe. He thought about it on his run. What could this all mean? Was stark taunting him? Should he wear makeup down to the lab to see how he would react?<br/>After his run and his shower, he decided against wearing makeup lest another member of the team saw him on his way down. Too risky.  He felt himself shiver once, sharply, and swallowed hard. There was nothing to be scared of, he told himself. It was just Stark. Yet, his heart was pounding again and his thoughts were racing.<br/>The ding of the elevator made him jump as he was ripped out of his thoughts. All he had to do now was walk down the hallway to Stark's lab. He found putting one foot in front of the other was difficult. He didn't know why he was feeling so much dread. Was it the thought that maybe he had been taunting him? Or was it the fear that maybe that night on the couch meant nothing, and that Tony had called him here to reject him?<br/>Steve took one more steadying breath before he knocked at the door. JARVIS greeted him jovially. "Mr. Stark has been waiting for you. Please, come in."<br/>The door slid open and Tony was nowhere to be seen. DUM-E sat near the door with a note taped to him. Surprisingly low-tech for Stark, but alright. The note read "go to the left". Steve followed obediently. He found five other notes that led him into a seperate room a little ways away. The little maze had at least distracted him from his nerves some.<br/>A throat cleared behind him. He jumped and spun on his heel. Tony was standing there, hair going in every direction, holding a mug of coffee. "Hey, Cap," he said, in a lazy drawl. "Turn around again."<br/>He did and he felt his jaw dropping. Where there had been nothing before, there was now a beautiful table. It seemed to be all wood and reminded him strongly of the furniture he'd seen in the nicer areas back in the 40's. It had a collection of drawers underneath it. As he watched, a screen slid up from it. He saw himself in it and startled again as bright lights came on, showing him his reflection.<br/>"Tony," his voice low, "What is this?"<br/>"A state-of-the-art makeup vanity. I got you a chair, too, but that's just boring to display. It's just a chair, you know, this can actually help you, you'll have a place to put on your makeup and stuff. There's a bunch of drawers." A drawer popped open as if on command. "That little machine there washes your brushes for you." Another drawer popped open. "That one is a lazy Susan where you can store your brushes." It slid out from the drawer, revealing that there were in fact two in there. "Well, two. I'm sure that's enough space to store brushes. I don't know how many you need." A part of the table popped up to reveal what looked like a cup. "That's to set your brushes in when you're using them so they're easy to grab. It all wipes clean really easily, too. I made sure to put a hydrophobic coating on it so you won't be able to stain anything."<br/>Steve was completely flabbergasted. Stark had put a lot of time and energy into this. Maybe he hadn't been avoiding him - rather, maybe he'd been occupied. Steve turned back to him and was surprised that he was only a few inches away, now.<br/>"Just promise," Tony breathed, "that you'll put it on for me, some time?" Tony grabbed Steve's head and crushed their lips together again, a low growl rumbling in his throat. Steve really hadn't been expecting...well...any of this. It was all a surprise to him. After the initial shock, he felt himself kissing back, wrapping an arm around Tony's waist and pulling him close. He felt a tongue gently probing his lips and, after a second, opened them slightly. He hadn't really had this very much in his life. He hoped he wasn't terrible.<br/>Tony pulled back eventually. They did have to breathe sometime. He looked into Steve's eyes and his brow creased with worry. "Shit," he muttered, "I didn't even ask before I kissed you. I'm sorry. You probably don't want this. Maybe you're not even gay - er- bi, I'm sorry." He tried to pull away.<br/>Steve didn't release him. Instead, he began to laugh. Tony stared at him in shock and confusion. "What are you laughing at?" Tony asked incredulously.<br/>Steve caught his breath. "You," he said, still giggling, "you, Tony Stark, are the dumbest genius I have ever met." Tony looked offended. "Shh. Listen. Do you think I would have kissed you back if I weren't at least a little bit gay? You're an idiot, Tony. Of course I like you."<br/>Tony frowned. "More than a little bit gay, I'd hope." Then, looking back at him in shock: "wait, you like me?"<br/>Steve cracked up again. He released Tony solely so he could fold over in laughter, giant guffaws like Tony was the funniest thing he had ever seen. Tony's face only grew more offended, which just made Steve laugh harder.<br/>"I don't like being laughed at! I'm trying to be serious here!" Tony was...pouting. It was adorable. He looked like a sad puppy, lip jutting out and hair all tousled. Steve just smiled and wiped the tears from his eyes from how hard he had been laughing.<br/>"Yes, Tony. I like you." It felt good to verbalise it. He'd been nursing a fondness for Tony from the beginning. Even though they butted heads, Steve couldn't help but be attracted to the bratty, gorgeous man in front of him. "I have for a while."<br/>Tony looked at him as though he was analyzing him. "Yeah, sure, like I believe that. You never said anything."<br/>Steve gave him a look. "Neither did you."<br/>"...checkmate, I guess."<br/>They stood in silence for a while. Steve felt awkward as he stared at the man in front of him. "So," he said, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "what now?"<br/>Tony startled, clearly having been lost in thought. "Uh. I mean. That's really up to you, Spangles." Steve's face screwed into a glare. He hated that particular nickname. "I would like to date you. I don't know if you want that. I don't know if you want anyone to know that. I don't know what you want."<br/>Steve sighed. "I think I'd like that." He frowned in thought. "I don't know if I want anyone to know, just yet. Is that okay? Or is that selfish?"<br/>Tony smiled. It was dazzling. "That's not selfish. You have to come out on your own terms. As far as anyone knows, America's icon is straight as an arrow." He chuckled a bit. "Somehow, I don't think we'll be able to keep it from the team for very long."<br/>Steve snickered. "We should take bets on how long it'll take Nat to figure it out."<br/>"If she hasn't already. She may have known before we did. That woman is terrifying." Steve nodded in agreement. "Either way," Tony smiled, "I'm just happy we want the same thing."<br/>"Yeah, me too." Steve walked to Tony and put an arm around his waist again. He bent to kiss him. <i> Today was a good day.</i></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Of Progress and Learning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Tony finally gets a chance to ruin something.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one is where we get into the heavier stuff, finally. This is going from fluff to smut really fast, y'all, get ready.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve had never been so frustrated in his life.</p><p>Tony had been riling him up on purpose. He'd run his hands over his body. He'd kiss him senseless.</p><p>And then, he'd leave with a wink and an infuriating smirk on his face. </p><p>Steve was desperate at this point. He'd try to hold on and he'd bed but Tony would always spirit himself back away to his workshop.</p><p>One day, however, after a few days of not seeing Tony, he found a note on the table.</p><p><i>Be ready at 8, in your suite. Make yourself pretty for me, Steve.</i> His heart raced. He hadn't worn his makeup in a while. They'd been busy and he'd been self-conscious, worried that they'd get called out again. He'd discovered the magic of makeup wipes but still felt awkward buying them in store. He'd have to ask Tony how to get around that.</p><p>The day was torture. He took three runs that day, exhausting him temporarily. Even on his runs, though, he found himself thinking back to the note. He could see the smirk on Tony's face and the sparkle in his eyes as he wrote it in his messy engineer's script. He wanted the hands that so carefully wrote that note on his skin. He wanted the heat of those hands, travelling down his body, exploring every inch of him.</p><p>Tony came up to him later. He wrapped an arm around his waist from behind and whispered into his ear. "I can't wait to mess up your makeup, pretty boy." Steve's libido ramped up immediately and he tried to turn around, to crush Tony against him and feel his body on his. He was too late - Tony was already spinning away and racing back down to his workshop. He'd already begged JARVIS. <i>No sir,</i> the AI said, sounding almost apologetic, <i>Sir has locked you out of the lab for the evening. </i></p><p>Steve retreated to his quarters around 6. He had been in the common area with the team, attempting to distract himself again. He'd been daydreaming about Tony's eyes when a small paper ball hit him square in the forehead. Clint, joker as he always was, called out to him. </p><p>"Earth to Cap!" His voice was filled with glee at having caught the soldier off guard. "Whatcha thinking about, buddy? Find yourself a special lady?" <br/>Steve blushed and rolled his eyes. He hated that, of all the things the serum would leave behind, he still blushed like a school girl. "No, Clint, just thinking of new battle strategies." With a roll of his eyes, Clint went back to his video game, yelling that Natasha was cheating somehow.</p><p>It was 6 o' clock and Steve was staring into the mirror, completely lost. He had been experimenting more in his free time, trying to get his skills better. Tony had introduced him to Pinterest and Youtube, which he found himself using far too much. He didn't know what to do. For a few moments, he forgot the tools Tony had introduced him to. With a sigh, he found himself opening Pinterest and scrolling, trying to ignore the nervous knot in his gut. <br/>At 6:20, he finally managed to find a look he wanted to try. It was a smokey eye, done with browns along the edges and filled in the center with a vibrant, metallic blue. It was outside what he normally attempted, the dramatic winged black eyeliner concerning to him. He knew that things came easily to him as an artist, but he found his face as a canvas far more difficult than he'd thought. <br/>He finished the eyes around 7, having removed and redone them more times than he could count. He frowned as he applied foundation, blush, and contour. This was far more than he'd ever put on before but Tony had been explicit. He wanted to mess up his makeup and damnit, Steve was going to give him a lot to mess up. <br/>He was agonizing over a lipstick choice when a chime came from the ceiling. <i>Mr. Rogers,</i> JARVIS intoned, <i> I'm afraid it is 7:45. You have 15 minutes before Sir arrives.</i> Steve felt a wave of anxiety rush over him and he swallowed past the lump in his throat. </p><p>"Thank you, JARVIS," he choked out, "I'll be ready." By 7:50, he'd chosen a nice shade of blue-toned red. He thought it would be too much at first but he wanted to give that contrast for Tony.  He imagined the red smearing across his face, intentionally avoiding setting spray and powder in favor of letting the makeup sit without it.</p><p>At 8, a knock came on his door. He had fidgeted over deciding on whether to sit or stand with his little remaining time. He decided, finally, on standing near the door. He'd dressed up in a blue shirt and red-patterned tie, with the grey slacks that he knew were a little too small and accentuated his ass just right. He hoped that he'd chosen correctly. </p><p>"Come in," he said, absolutely trying not to squeak as he had in the past. He worried as the door opened that this was too much and that Tony wouldn't like it - maybe he preferred simple looks and not the dramatic, extravagant look he had gone for. <br/>His worries ceased once he caught sight of Tony. He felt his jaw begin to drop. Tony was resplendent. He'd worn nice, black jeans with a fiery red shirt and a metallic gold tie. He'd seen Steve eyeing the suit and caught him more than once working on colorful renditions of it. He knew that the colors would work well on him. Tony, of course, was smirking. </p><p>His eyes darkened once he saw Steve. He looked him up and down, from head to toe, before looking at his face. He found himself transfixed, enchanted by the beautiful man standing in front of him.</p><p>The next thing Steve knew, Tony was right in front of him. A hand gently reached up to cradle his face. "Wow," Tony was breathless, "Steve. This...this is amazing. So good. You look....holy shit, Steve. You look amazing." </p><p>Steve found himself averting his eyes and blushing. He was glad that it likely wouldn't show through the makeup. The compliment had lifted him up but he still felt the slight shame. He felt, deep down, that he shouldn't be wearing this sort of thing as a man. The conventions of the 40s, he supposed, never left him.<br/>"Hey," Tony spoke softly now. He gently tugged Steve's chin back up. "Look at me. This is okay. You're okay. This is...this is more than okay. Don't be ashamed." After a breath, he smirked again. "I cannot wait to fuck this up." </p><p>Steve found himself being shoved against a wall. Tony's mouth was on his before he knew it. As he pulled back for a second, Steve saw the red lipstick across his lips as well and moaned. This shouldn't be so hot, he thought, but here the fuck they were. Tony had a grip on his shoulder and his waist, fingers digging in as he pressed their lips together again. </p><p>"Fuck, Steve," Tony breathed, "so hot. Can't even believe how hot you are. You did this for me, didn't you?" </p><p>Steve nodded, seeing the heat in Tony's eyes as he did so. He did makeup for himself, of course, but tonight he'd done it for Tony. Every choice had been made with him in mind, right down to the blue shadow that complimented his eyes and the black mascara that might run later.</p><p>Tony pressed his thumb to Steve's mouth and slid it across his cheek. He pressed his thumb to Steve's lips and he found himself opening as if on instinct. His tongue lathed its way around Tony's finger as he watched his pupils become blown. "Fuck, you're so good," he mumbled, sliding his thumb down across Steve's chin. <br/>Steve couldn't imagine how he looked, red smeared across the lower half of his face. Tony was breathing harder as he pulled back to stare at him. He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Kneel," Tony said, voice hard.</p><p>Steve felt the pressure on his shoulder increase and he dropped to the floor fast. "Oh, Steve," Tony once again breathed, "fuck, you listen so well. I could tell you to do anything, couldn't I?" </p><p>Steve nodded again, transfixed by the thought of Tony telling him what to do and when. He liked that thought. He'd learned something new about himself today and he found the thought making him harder. He could see Tony's erection through his tight pants and looked up at him, pleading silently with his eyes.<br/>"Gonna mess up all that pretty makeup of yours," Tony said as he slid off his belt. "Gonna ruin all that hard work you put in for me." His hand was once again on Steve's shoulder as he slid his pants down. Steve noted, amused, that Tony of course had foregone underwear.</p><p>Tony's cock was perfect. Surprisingly large for a man as short as he was, red and beading with precome already. Steve felt his mouth grow wet at the thought of the cock laying on his tongue. He craved the taste of Tony, wanted him inside him in every way.<br/>Tony slipped a finger in his mouth again before pulling back. "Suck," he commanded. </p><p>So Steve did. He loved the weight of Tony's cock on his tongue, the taste of him. He had never been so hard in his life. He felt himself moan around Tony as he thrust a little bit. </p><p>He ran his tongue along the vein of his cock and listened to Tony's moan. He couldn't stand how hot that was, seeing Tony looking down at him flustered and in ecstasy. He felt the hand on his shoulder move to his hair, gripping tight and tugging until it was mildly painful. The hand pulled him forward, forcing him to take Tony down his throat.</p><p><i>Guess this is another advantage of the serum,</i> he thought drolly as he easily opened his throat to take Tony all the way down. Tony let out a strangled moan above him. "Fuck, Steve," he panted, "so close, fuck, Steve, gonna come." He was babbling now, almost incoherent. "So good oh fuck, so pretty  for me." <br/>Tony tugged him further forward and then exploded down his throat. "Fuck, Steve, oh my god," he continues babbling, "so fucking pretty for me." He pulled back and knelt down, fighting to catch his breath. </p><p>Once he had, he ran his finger under Steve's eyes. Steve knew that his eyes had watered and the mascara must have run. He couldn't imagine the messy picture he was now, makeup scattered across his face, panting and wide eyed as his erection rubbed against his pants. "Fuck, what a pretty picture," Tony's smirk was back, "wish I could see this all the time. So pretty." </p><p>Tony stood and pulled Steve up with him, leading them to the bed. Steve's pants were off before he knew it, Tony leaning between his legs and <i>oh, fuck. </i></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Because I refuse to believe that they let a national icon be washed out on stage.<br/>Us theatre kids know you have to be painted like a whore if you want to be seen.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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